


Four Leaf Clover

by Sybariticfanfiction (SybariticReyna)



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: ALL THE GOOD STUFF, Cuddles, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kisses, Multi, Other, Very Vague Depictions Of Past Injuries, bc the demon bros can be assholes, give this fuckign demon some love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26003434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SybariticReyna/pseuds/Sybariticfanfiction
Summary: Mammon and MC have bonding time after Solomon tells MC about his first day in the Devildom
Relationships: Main Character/Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 193





	Four Leaf Clover

**Author's Note:**

> Warning in case you skimmed the tags: v v vague descriptions of Mammon being 'punished'/tortured.  
> This was inspired by the "Proud of my brothers" card devilgram also so. sort of spoilers?  
> This is mostly rated T for swearing tho

Solomon didn't mean anything by it. At least, you don't _think_ he did. He can be sly, but you were the one who asked what his first few days in the Devildom were like. 

You expected him to summarize something a little less fast paced and ridiculous than your first couple days. You did _not_ expect the video he showed you. 

The video of Mammon getting the shit kicked out of him. 

The video that _breaks your goddamn heart._

Solomon pauses and closes the app the moment he sees your expression, but the damage is done. 

Oh, you had known that they can be rough with Mammon. Lucifer has smacked him in front of you, Satan has made dozens of threats, Beel has tied him up on the stairwell, for fucks sake. 

You didn't realize it was _that bad_.

You say goodbye to Solomon without delay, explaining that you _need_ to see Mammon. Right now. You need to hug him and kiss him and assure yourself he's _okay_. 

Solomon doesn't try to stop you, but he does apologize for not thinking. You aren't quite sure what he means by that, and you don't have time to puzzle it out. 

You make it to the House of Lamentation in record time, anger and anxiety pushing you forward. As far as you know, Mammon should be in his room. Studying, or at least pretending to study. Lucifer has been ragging on him about grades again.

It occurs to you then that maybe he wasn't exaggerating when he said Lucifer was going to tie him to a chair of needles. Or starve him. Or use his whip, which you're sure isn't _nearly_ as much fun as your whip of love. 

You mentally reach for the pact you share, calling to him. Sure, you could just call him, but you don't bother. 

He hears you well enough, given the muffled growling you hear through the door. 

You pause. Take inventory of your emotional state. You're still _thrumming_ with anger, and glancing over at Satan's bedroom door makes your stomach lurch, but the sound of Mammon's voice calms you. 

You knock. 

"Yeah?!" He shouts, trying and failing to sound annoyed. He's smiling as you enter, sitting on the floor in front of his coffee table. It's strewn with notes and books you can't quite see the contents of. "What's up, babe? Wanted to spend some time with your favorite demon?" 

You're well aware his faux arrogance belies a very real fear that he's not your favorite, or even in the running. He truly believes he's the scummy second born, and you wonder if he's quite literally had that carved into him. 

Mammon glances up when you don't reply, his eyes curiously bright. "Hey. For real, what's up?" 

"I…" You sigh. "Can I have a hug?" 

Mammon tilts his head to the side. "...Sure? I-- I mean, _yeah_ , but why do you--" 

With his permission granted, you don't wait for him to stutter out the _why_ and the follow up _of course you wanna hug the great Mammon._ You want to throw yourself into his lap, but then you remember the video and you oh-so-gently sit down next to him and wrap your arms around his waist. 

Mammon hugs you back just as carefully, like he's afraid you'll break. "Are you okay?" 

"I…" your throat closes up before you can figure out how to explain. 

"Did that sorcerer do something?" He keeps his voice soft, but you catch the threatening undercurrent. 

You shake your head, "No, no, he just-- fuck, I'm _so sorry_ , Mammon." 

Mammon's eyebrows pull together. "For what? Ya do something?" He sounds amused by the very suggestion. 

"Solomon showed me the video he took of his first day here, when Asmo gave him the tour." You want to bury your face in the crook of his neck like you usually do, but you also want to look Mammon up and down to reassure yourself he's not bleeding. 

Mammon takes a moment to recall That Day, still looking (adorably) confused. "The… oh! When everybody freaked out cuz I was-- _searching_ for something." 

You should probably remind him that stealing is wrong, but repeating, "I'm so sorry," takes precedence. 

He cocks his head to the side. "Why're you sorry? You didn't-- you've _never_ hurt me." 

"I'm sorry that your brothers treat you like that! I-- I'm sorry I wasn't there, that you had to go through that alone, that you had to go through that _at all_. Fuck, Mammon, I only saw like forty seconds and I--" your eyes are watering, and you're _rambling,_ but you don't know how to explain that you feel-- a lot. A lot of things. 

Mammon cuts you off by cupping your cheek, the way you so often do to him. "Hey. It's not on you, ya dummy. Stop apologizing." 

...right. 

You lean into his palm, trying to calm down a little. You were supposed to be the one comforting Mammon, after all. 

Mammon smiles at you, laughing, "Ya really don't like seeing me hurt, huh?" 

"Not at all." You admit. "Well. _Sometimes_. Only when you like it." 

That blush you so adore flares up, and he stutters, "I-- I _don't, ever_. I'm not a fuckin masochist. What are ya even talking about?" 

"You like when I dig my nails in. You like when I bite you. You like--" 

Mammon kisses you. And you _hate_ that "person A kisses person B to shut them up" cliche, you _do_ , but you find it's not as insufferable when it's Mammon, and he's six shades of flustered. 

He whines into the kiss as you press closer, greedy and needy in equal measure. You used to fret over that, whether it's one or the other. You've come to realize it's both, with him. With all of them, really. Their affection is entwined with their sin, and you wouldn't have it any other way. 

Mammon, ever careful, pulls away first. He smiles, smug as can be as you catch your breath. "Y'know, I think I might start charging you in kisses every time you barge into my room." 

"As if!" You laugh. "How often am I in here anyways? You're always in _my_ room." 

Mammon rolls his eyes. "Pfft, whatever. I stand by my new rule." He glances down at your lips, the taste of your lip balm no doubt still on his own.

You lean closer, teasing, "Does this rule apply retroactively? Because if it does I probably owe you a few more kisses."

Mammon is always pretty, he's a model for goodness sake but he's _radiant_ when he smiles. Asmo once said that they were prettier when they were angels, but you find that _very_ difficult to believe. Not when Mammon looks like he does, so carefree and happy and loving. He's beautiful. 

"We got time." He says, oblivious to your pining. "I mean, I _was_ planning on studying, but since you're here…" 

You know what he's doing, using you as an excuse to shirk his work, but you _do_ want kisses. "I'll help you study later," you decide, moving to wrap your arms around his neck. "Like. Tomorrow, later." 

Mammon kisses the tip of your nose, soft and sweet. "Tomorrow." 

**Author's Note:**

> I am v tired but I love Mammon 
> 
> if ur wondering what the title has to do with the fic,,, its just that I think the song glitter and crimson has mammon/mc vibes and when I'm stuck I use song lyrics. Also Mammon is a lucky demon 
> 
> this was beta read by mcfuck here on ao3 💕 pls give them the kudos they deserve


End file.
